


When Need is Greatest

by TheAsexualofSpades



Series: Quarantine Drabbles [114]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon Returns (Merlin), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Post-Episode: s05e13 The Diamond of the Day, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Protective Merlin (Merlin), Scars, all of those are like one tiny paragraph there's not that much, can be platonic or romantic you decide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25310680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAsexualofSpades/pseuds/TheAsexualofSpades
Summary: Merlin's lived over 1500 years. Of course he has scars.He keeps them. They remind him of why he's still here.Just...can Arthur come back now, please?
Relationships: Leon & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Leon & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Quarantine Drabbles [114]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1677655
Comments: 13
Kudos: 414





	When Need is Greatest

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to alittletoo-obsessed on tumblr for this one! 
> 
> also i'm gonna be on a merlin kick for the next few days apparently, there's a lot of requests for our bois

Fandom: Merlin (BBC)

Prompt: so I believe that if Merlin's magic is strong enough to like make him immortal, he can heal some goddamn wounds without scars damnit. BUT he always only uses traditional medicine on himself because a) he is a physician and it keeps him connected to his past. and b) it leaves scars. and scars mean that he is human, at least on some level. No matter how much of a creature of magic, or a monster her becomes, he has scars so he must be human. They keep him sane and they remind him of why he is still waiting. why he is alone, why he has to keep going because he is human and arthur needs him and he will save his king if it's the last thing he does also this works great for the arthur comes back from the lake scar reveal stuff— alittletoo-obsessed

* * *

For all everyone talks about the world ending being the worst thing that can happen, they’re missing a worse fate very easily.

The world keeps on spinning. Always. It will _always_ keep going.

It doesn’t care if _your_ world is over, it will keep moving. With or without you. It will spin and life will go on and no one will care who gets left by the wayside. So you must change too or else you will be swallowed whole.

1500 years is a long time. A _long_ time, particularly for someone whose world split in twain at the very _beginning_ of those 1500 years. Watching new worlds take shape under the brunt of time and, in turn, watching them fall apart. It’s very easy to lose count of the rise and fall of new worlds.

There is one thing each of these new worlds has in common. They each distance themselves more from magic.

Those who ‘tolerate’ magic quickly gave way to those who punished magic, and those who punished magic gave way to those who didn’t believe in it at all, instead putting their belief into an equally absurd concept known as science.

Science is humanity’s way of defining magic that can be explained simply. Yes, yes, the comments can be heard now, ‘science isn’t always simple,’ ‘you call some of this stuff simple? What’s wrong with you?’ ‘You’re just saying that because you’re not smart enough to understand it.’ That last one always makes brings a smile to the faces of people who belong to magic. That’s the _opposite_ of the point, friends.

Science, _true_ science, not the loose grouping of facts and procedures humanity thinks it is, is the process of constructing systems to describe something. Collective ignorance, and eliminating pockets of that ignorance. Systems and curiosity. That’s all science is.

But enough about science. Magic is the older word for what could not be explained yet was. Magic too is a system of rules, a science-based on a system of rules that this world has long forgotten.

Perhaps it is not the _only_ thing the world has long forgotten.

Merlin doesn’t really remember _when_ he stopped using his magic for himself. Probably around the first century or so. But it seemed like a waste, using his magic for a purpose that couldn’t be excused as part of waiting for Arthur. Sure, he kept up enough practice in empty fields and abandoned ruins so he’d be _ready_ when Arthur came back, but he wasn’t nearly as willing to use it for extraneous reasons.

One added bonus to the fact that he now lives in a world where most people don’t believe in magic is that they’re much more willing to believe that they just mistook his magic for something else. A trick of the light. The sign they should get more sleep. Just an illusion. He’s not likely to die because of his magic here.

Not that he can.

No, there were other ways for Merlin to remember the world he came from. For one, he worked in a library, surrounding himself with stories, stories, and more stories. He worked in the archives, maintaining the ancient texts that came into the library’s possession and keeping watch over the ever-growing collection of books. The story he had been a part of, after all, lived long in the hearts of men.

For another, he had another one of his people with him, Merlin is grateful to the Druids that, out of everyone, they allowed Sir Leon to drink from the Cup of Life.

Leon and Merlin were…an interesting pair, to say the least. Merlin was a commoner, a servant thrust into his role by an impromptu thwarting of an assassination. He was the incarnate of all that Uther wanted to destroy. Leon, by contrast, was the last of the knights that came from nobility, serving Camelot as one of the highest-ranked people in the kingdom outside of the royal family. He represented the Crown’s way, the _old_ Crown, and by all rights, the two should despise each other.

They didn’t. They never had.

Leon had kept Merlin’s secret when it would’ve gotten him killed. The knight had become an older brother figure to many in Camelot, but none more perhaps than Merlin. Leon had been with him, through the world spinning on and on. He made things…a little easier.

The two of them didn’t live together, nor did they always end up in the same corners of the world. But finding each other every century or so was a relief. A reminder that not everything was gone. 

This century, they were much closer together than usual. Just down the street, in fact. They met up for coffee. And it was great, honestly, it was, having someone like Leon.

But Leon was observant. _Very_ observant. And there were things Merlin would rather keep to himself. Not that Leon was particularly _rude_ about it, mind you, it’s just…he saw a lot. Merlin would sometimes rather he didn’t.

Because not using his magic for extraneous reasons led to the third thing Merlin did to remind himself of his old world. He practiced as a physician.

Remembering Gaius was inevitable, honoring his legacy was a choice. Merlin learned how to take Gaius with him, tucked against his heart. He felt those eyebrow raises over his shoulders as he worked, remembered those words of wisdom and comforting presence.

He remembered the concerned murmurs when he came home injured.

One doesn’t live for 1500 years and emerge unscathed. Merlin didn’t seek out conflict. Not anymore.

He’s long stopped believing in the honor of war, not that he ever really did.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t get hurt.

He knows he can heal himself. It was never his strong suit, mind you, but he can. Magic strong enough to make one immortal can definitely heal. But…what’s the point?

If Merlin looked exactly the same as he did 1500 years ago, he’d lose his mind. Which is part of the reason he used the Dragoon image so often. But the scars…the scars helped him remember. Plus, they…reminded him of what he was doing.

Paying.

He’d failed. He’d failed his king when it was the most important. He’d failed and he was given a choice.

He chose to pay. He would stand and wait and watch and make sure that when Albion’s need was greatest, Arthur would not rise alone.

Arthur wouldn’t know how this modern world worked. Arthur wouldn’t know how _much_ the world has changed. Arthur would need him.

He wouldn’t fail again.

But…Merlin has to admit, he was starting to get tired. 1500 years…so _much._ So much _happened._

Albion fell apart several times over. The _world_ fell apart several times over. More evil men have walked the earth than Merlin can count and it changes nothing. More plagues have swept the earth and left more dead than anyone can remember.

Merlin’s not sure what’s _left_ of Albion.

So he keeps the scars as a reminder of what he’s doing and why. He failed. He’s here to serve his sentence until he is free.

He’s getting desperate. He’s not sure what it will take to have Arthur return if _nothing_ so far has worked. If the wars and the bloodshed and the deaths aren’t enough. If the starving and illness and corruption aren’t enough. If he isn’t enough.

He works, he tries, he suffers because he has to keep watch. He has to stay. For Albion.

For Arthur.

Even if he’s forgetting what that means.

Leon noticed when Merlin stopped healing his scars away with magic. At first, the knight worried if it was some magical ailment that Merlin’s own magic couldn’t heal. Then he worried that Merlin was still being hurt.

Now he worries that Merlin is falling.

He’s half right.

Merlin fell a long time ago. He’s just now starting to hit the ground.

There are only a few scars he doesn’t keep. Ones that would draw…too much attention.

He can’t die. He can’t die.

He doesn’t keep those scars.

Every other one he keeps. A sword wound from where he covered an innocent life. A bullet wound from where he wasn’t quick enough. Scrapes, cuts, he keeps those. Reminders.

Because what is he if he can live this long, through this much, and come out unscathed?

He is human. He wants so desperately to remain human. So he keeps his scars.

He deserves them, don’t you think?

* * *

Merlin pauses, aware he’s been talking for a while. He reaches over and grabs the teapot, making to refill his cup.

“Arthur, d’you want more?”

No response.

“Arthur?”

Merlin looks over and almost drops the teapot. In an instant, he’s on his feet, running over to Arthur’s chair and crouching, hands fluttering worriedly about his king.

Arthur doesn’t move. He just stares at Merlin, tears streaked down his face, more welling up in his eyes. A wounded noise escapes his throat and he lurches forward, ignoring Merlin’s surprised squeak as he wraps him up in a tight hug.

Merlin’s arms close instantly around him, carefully rubbing his back.

“I’m sorry, Arthur,” he murmurs, “that was a lot all at once. I’m sorry, it’s just—you asked, and I didn’t want to lie to you.”

Arthur only sobs harder.

“It’s okay, Arthur,” Merlin soothes, rocking him back and forth, “it’s okay—“

“No, it’s _not,_ ” Arthur says fiercely through his tears, “it’s _not_ okay. _”_

“It is, Arthur,” Merlin tries, “you’re back now, everything’s going to be okay, I promise the world hasn’t changed _that_ much—“

“Merlin, I don’t give a damn about the world!” Arthur pulls back, his eyes rimmed red and his nose to match. “I care that _you’ve_ been punishing yourself!”

Merlin falters. “What?”

“This!” Arthur holds up one of Merlin’s arms, the one with the really long shrapnel wound, and shakes it angrily. “You, keeping _these,_ saying you _deserve_ them, _no,_ Merlin!”

Merlin’s eyes widen. What…what is Arthur saying?

“I haven’t been completely asleep, you know,” Arthur continues, eyes gleaming with determination, “I’ve been watching. I _know_ how much the world has changed.”

“You…you do?”

“ _Yes,_ Merlin,” Arthur says, “but I figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” Merlin shifts nervously, not sure what Arthur’s still talking about. He’s…he’s angry at _Merlin?_

“Why I came back.”

Arthur fixes him with a furious look and Merlin flinches. But as he peers closer, a lesson he’s learned from Leon—ah, he still needs to call him—he sees past the anger and sees…

Grief. Pain. Fear.

It makes his heart clench.

“I came back when Albion’s need was greatest,” Arthur says, clutching Merlin’s hands so tightly they both hurt, “and _you_ are all that is left from Albion.”

Merlin’s mouth drops open.

…him? Arthur rose from the dead for _him?_

“I’ve watched you,” Arthur continues, anger finally subsiding just the smallest bit, “and I’ve _seen_ you. And…and…Merlin—“

This time, Merlin wraps Arthur in a hug more fierce than the last. Their roles have quickly reversed; Arthur holds Merlin tightly, the first time he’s had someone _else_ comfort him in…oh, he can’t remember anymore.

“No more,” Arthur says weakly, “no more.”

“I haven’t—you don’t—“ Merlin licks his lips and tries again— “it’s not that bad.”

“Merlin,” Arthur chides, “ _no._ ”

“…okay, maybe it is that bad.”

Arthur hums, burying his nose in Merlin’s hair. Merlin closes his eyes, remembers how _relieved_ he was, how _happy_ when he saw Arthur emerging from the lake. When he ran out, not caring that he was getting soaked, embracing Arthur in the waist-high water, closing his eyes and just feeling the warm dampness of Arthur’s skin against his cheek, breathing in the smell of the lake, the slightly metallic smell from the chainmail, and the warmth of Arthur, Arthur, _Arthur._

He breathes that in now, Arthur’s warm and solid weight in his arms.

He knows Arthur will want to see. See all of them. See how many times Merlin has fallen over the years. But if the soft puffs and sniffles he can still hear are any indication, neither of them is moving for a little.

Oh, one more thing.

Merlin’s kind of forgotten how to cry.

1500 years makes one numb to a lot of things, everything…kind of stops being so overwhelming after a while.

He learns anew in the arms of his king that rose from the dead when his need was greatest.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come yell at me on tumblr while we're all in quarantine. 
> 
> https://a-small-batch-of-dragons.tumblr.com/


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